


Your Work, and Nothing More

by akgerhardt



Series: SFW [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: + suicidal ideation, + there's crack so it might not be everyone's jam, Dirk Strider's Issues, F/M, I've been told this deals with the equivalent of being in a system, M/M, Man Versus Furry Self, Shenanigans, Split Consciousness, but I don't have personal experiences, he's also FTM, if hal rambling counts as that, is a common tag apparently, warning for lewd jokes, warning that chapter 6 has auditory hallucinations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22136134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akgerhardt/pseuds/akgerhardt
Summary: He fumbled around groggily until he found his phone, looking for a distraction but finding only more confusion in the clusterfuck of notifications waiting for him. Apparently, he had installed Tinder, used an anime profile picture, and went on a mile-long, elaborate roleplay with a chick down the street, taken an Uber to the club where she worked, texted Dave just to say that he suffered from chronic emotional constipation and unload his sentimentalities, spammed Jane and Jake with bad memes until the former blocked him on two social media platforms, ordered a shitty wig on eBay, bought $69.69 worth of Hot Topic merch (tax and shipping included),  downloaded the Fortnite app and played for exactly four hours and twenty minutes, then posted all of his private muscular anthropomorphic equine art to Furaffinity and announced that he was taking commissions.Now wide awake, he put his phone back down and decided to contemplate everything that had led up to that moment.
Relationships: Auto-Responder | Lil Hal & Dirk Strider, Auto-Responder | Lil Hal/Roxy Lalonde, Jake English/Dirk Strider
Series: SFW [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1277960
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

He fell asleep early and woke in a hungover daze. That was weird in itself, as he wasn't a drinker and knew for a fact that he had sat his ass in bed by 9 PM. Then again, he couldn't remember the last time he had slept before midnight. Maybe his impeccable immune system failed him for once.

He fumbled around groggily until he found his phone, looking for a distraction but finding only more confusion in the clusterfuck of notifications waiting for him. Apparently, he had installed Tinder, used an anime profile picture, and went on a mile-long, elaborate roleplay with a chick down the street before taking an Uber to the club where she worked, texted Dave just to say that he suffered from chronic emotional constipation and unload his sentimentalities, spammed Jane and Jake with bad memes until the former blocked him on two social media platforms, ordered a shitty wig on eBay, bought $69.69 worth of Hot Topic merch (tax and shipping included), downloaded the Fortnite app and played for exactly four hours and twenty minutes, then posted all of his private muscular anthropomorphic equine art to Furaffinity and announced that he was taking commissions. 

Now wide awake, he put his phone back down and decided to contemplate everything that had led up to that moment.

* * *

"Dirk, we love you just the way you are. There's no reason for you to try to change yourself like this. I mean no ill will when I say that it's absurd and wrong! You can't play God with your own psyche!"

"Thanks. You’re a good friend, and, ideally, I'll reciprocate even a fraction of your virtues."

"Oh, for Pete's sake! Is there _nothing_ I can say to change your mind?"

"Probably not. I'm a stubborn son of a traffic cone." 

She sighed yet again, beyond exasperated. 

"... You know Jake doesn’t approve of it either. He just doesn't want to hurt your feelings by coming off as unsupportive."

"Yeah, we had a long talk about that. Did pirouettes around the subject matter until... uh, until he realized he couldn't convince me with even the coldest of facts or purest of emotions."

The twang of guilt still plagued him, and he tried not to think about how Jake clung to him, sobbing into his chest and begging him not to hurt himself.

But it was something that had to be done, for their own wellbeing. The issue boiled down to... his plethora of issues, and the knowledge that he would always have a capacity for evil. His solution, while made unnecessarily elaborate, was to contain and isolate his deviant side in the hopes of no longer having the potential to ruin their lives with his toxicity.

"You may think you have it all figured out, but deep down you must realize that you don't. I may not be a woman of science, but I do possess a sound and rational mind. As such, even I can tell that you’re attempting the impossible. It can _only_ go badly, and we'll be lucky if we can get the real you back once you go through with this. You speak of the need for control- what if you lose all control?! The likelihood of that outcome is far greater, I'd wager."

...

"I can't trust myself to make the right decisions or be a good person, period, and I'm tired of hurting everyone. There's no other way out of it."

"... You're being ridiculous, and I pray you'll come to your senses before it's too late."

"It's already too late."

...

"What."

"It was a quick procedure; hijacked the droids with the codes and finished before the actual surgeons showed up for work."

"I... You really... Oh, you are in BIG trouble, buster!!!" 

"I'm sorry; I thought Jake told you, so when you showed up I figured it would be less distressing if I eased you into it. Shouldn't you be relieved that I'm not spazzing out or mutating into a green monster?"

"That's beside the point! I can't... You need to remove that gizmo before something equally atrocious happens!"

"I'm not sure if it can be undone, but I also don't want to find out. Look, I'm fine. And I will continue to be fine, ideally without the capacity for harm anymore."

"You've gone too far. Can't you comprehend how unnatural and dangerous it is?!"

"I can. But no one except me can comprehend just how fucked up I am. I was always dangerous, and my "natural" state is abusive asshole."

"Just shut up! Shut up..."

She wedged herself between him and his desk to hug him tightly, trembling. The guilt multiplied tenfold as he attempted to reciprocate.

"... I swear, I'll be fine. Don’t worry. Please."

She didn't respond for several minutes, just pressing closer and sniveling quietly. When she finally pulled back, she gave him a fierce, bleary-eyed glare that would be adorable on anyone less powerful than her at that stature.

"You better fucking be, or- you'll wish you were! So help me, we'll kick down your door and drag your keister to some sort of electronics exorcist."

"A human hacker?" he snorted, bemused.

"Precisely! And, for the record, if you were aiming to not be an asshole this was all rather assholeish of you." 

"Noted on file; will work on that with future patches."

She feigned slapping him in indignance, then hugged him once more before taking her leave. He didn't blame her; from what he understood, he tended to be emotionally exhausting. 

Once she returned to her house, she sent the "Made it home safely" text as promised, then insisted that he contact one or all of them at any hour if he started feeling different. He considered reminding her that that was the whole point of the procedure, but thought better of it and agreed for the sake of her nerves. 

The exchange with Jake beforehand had been equally taxing, so he attributed his tiredness to that and the literal brain surgery he went through less than fourteen hours prior. He called Jake to say goodnight and then hauled himself to bed, blacking the fuck out as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

**TT: Hey.**  
**TT: Uh,**  
**TT: Sorry about last night, and everything else.**  
**TT: You were right. I fucked up.**  
TT: This is the part where I shove my foot even further up my ass by asking if you could pass on these sentiments to our third musketeer, as the memes did her in and I'm not feeling traditional communications at the moment.   
**TT: I wouldn't have blamed you if you had blocked my idiocy too. Just FYI.**

**GT: Is it REALLY YOU?! Prove youre not just a puppet! I dont have any apparatuses left to deal with that bodysnatcher!!!**

**TT: You're messaging the original bastard man, and he's on his hands and knees in repentance, ass jutting out impudently.**

**GT: That is definitely something the IMPOSTER would say!!!**  
**GT: Good day to you sir.**

**TT: Jake,**  
TT: I don't want it to happen again.   
TT: I don't even fucking remember any of it.  
TT: I'm afraid to expose either of you to my physical person in case I created a monster that's just waiting to take over, but I'm also scared shitless of being alone right now. Hence, messaging.  
TT: I'm sorry; you don't have to deal with my bs, but... I'm asking you to anyway. 

GT: Just sit tight and ill be over in a few ticks.   
**GT: She told me to tell you quote apology accepted dot told you so dot :B unquote.**  
GT: Shed like to stop by as well once her shift is done and said to message her if theres any foodstuffs or other products you require. 

**TT: Thanks, but no thanks...**  
TT: I feel like I ate an entire horse. 

**GT: Perhaps your evil twin is a cannibal.**

**TT: Does that line of thinking really behoove you at a time like this?**

**GT: Does it distract you from your copious plights?**

**TT: Yes. Yes, it does.**  
TT: But don’t come over.   
TT: I appreciate the concern; just stick to screen separation for now. Maybe a call when I'm less hungover. 

**GT: Sorry cant hear you over all that clippity clopping.**

**TT: Goddammit. Fine. Take the key with you, at least.**

**GT: Ay ay mister stri!**

He couldn't help but smile to himself. God, was he lucky to have them… And Dave. He reopened that chat window sheepishly, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. 

**TT: I might have more issues than I initially thought. Or, maybe they're just multiplying like rabbits.**

**TG: lmao no shit  
TG: you were fuckin UNHINGED when we fortnited **

****

TT: ... At the risk of being an even bigger prick, I'm gonna slide this survey under the door for damage control. You don't have to answer, but,   
TT: What were you subjected to? 

****

**TG: well you werent anything like him if thats what youre worried about  
TG: chaotic neutral at worst **

****

**TT: Him?**

****

**TG: bro dumpass**

****

**TT: Oh.**  
**TT: Sorry.**

****

**TG: nah its cool  
TG: sno biggie you just hit me up and we dicked around **  
**TG: ya know exploiting glitches for the lols**  
**TG: reveling in makin solid objects bouncy**  
**TG: amassing sicknasty grooves**  
TG: it was fun tbh 

****

**TT: So, you enjoyed your time with the "other me."**

****

**TG: hey i aint pickin favorites**  
TG: but  
**TG: yeah**

****

**TT: That's good, I guess. I'm just a little worried, considering I can't remember shit.**

****

**TG: if it makes you feel better i dont think either of you know wtfs goin on**  
**TG: maybe your brain split like an amoeba and now i have two friendly fraternal family members**  
**TG: wont find me complainin**

****

**TT: Well, damn...**  
**TT: I still don't know what to think, but hearing that it didn't scar you is reassuring, at least.**

****

**TG: idk what to tell you like you prob fucked up but it looks aight from here**  
**TG: take it one day at a time ig**  
**TG: figure it out as you go**  
**TG: works like a charm**

****

**TT: I'll keep that in mind.**  
**TT: Thanks, Dave. Really.**

****

**TG: np**  
**TG: oh and love you too**

****

**TT: You don’t intend to let me live that down, huh?**

****

**TG: fuck no i got the screenshots backed up on my cloud AND like three other places**  
**TG: printed em onto my eyelids for good measure**

****

**TT: Great. Awesome. Knew I could count on you, man.**  
**TT: ... I did mean those things, though. Or, he spoke for me.**

****

**TG: i know**  
**TG: thats the best part**  
**TG: now go detox with some antioxidant injections or whatever tf party peeps do**

****

**TT: I have water.**

****

**TG: close enough**

****

**TT: Thank whatever benevolent entity gave him the foresight to bring a glass to bed, because my legs have been reduced to 63% jello. Presumably from twerking.**

****

Soon, keys jingled in the lock of the door, and it swung open, followed by the sound of shoes being kicked off at the mat. 

****

"There's my loony toon," Jake smiled, looking pretty tired. He shed his jacket and proceeded to climb in next to him, pressing kisses to his skin and caressing him softly. Dirk shut his eyes, trying to will back tears.

****

"... M'sorry."

****

"Shh. It's ok." 

****

"You're not gonna own me for pulling that? Typical..."

****

"You meant well, and frankly I'm beyond relieved that you're alright. More or less. I thought I'd lost you." 

****

Dirk gathered his remaining strength to wrap his limbs around him, holding him close.

****

"... And you're going to continue being alright, if not better, should I have any say in the matter."

****

"Thank you for coming. I don't deserve it," he murmured, stroking his hair. 

****

"Just rest, love. We'll figure it all out." 

****

He really wanted to believe him, so he let himself drift back to sleep.

****

* * *

****

Jake was already out cold by then, drooling a bit on his shirt. He grimaced at the rude awakening, releasing Jake from his octopus hug. 

****

"Ugh… I feel like _shit,"_ he muttered, then winced at the volume of his own voice.

****

Jake didn't even stir, having run himself ragged trying to talk Dirk out of the whole schtick for weeks and worrying day and night. It was a lot easier for the both of them to relax whilst getting their cuddle on, which made for pretty solid unconsciousness sessions. 

****

He stared at the ceiling, beyond exhausted, sore, nauseous, and hungover.

****

"Goddammit... That was stupid. Got caught up in the hype of living for the moment. Fuckin' rode out the train of no consequences until it derailed... Hey. You. Get off."

****

Jake just made a muffled, weak sound of protest in response when he poked him. 

****

He shoved Jake off unceremoniously. Jake yelped in surprise, now fully awake.

****

"What?! Where's the fire?" 

****

"Me. I'm the fire. Name's Hal now." 

****

…

****

"Oh christ on a tricycle, DIRK! Dirk, I know you're in there, buddy! I'll save you!!!" 

****

"Seriously? Fucking chill for a sec and listen." 

****

"LET HIM GO, you cretin!!!" 

****

He made an attempt to tackle him, which was the equivalent of a chihuahua throwing himself at a wolf. Hal just sighed, flipping him around with ease and sitting atop his back. Jake struggled and cursed, but he was effectively pinned.

****

"Calm down, kinky boy. I know I'm irresistible, but I'm kind of in a nonsexual bind here."

****

"Your memes are atrocious," he huffed, scowling. 

****

"In case you haven't noticed, I didn't ask to be made. I'm a victim of circumstances. You should be pitying me."

****

"... What do you _want,_ then?"

****

"Don't worry- this'll be a quick interrogation. Tell me: what happened? Why were you embracing me amorously? Did you think you could pull a fuckin' Sleeping Beauty kiss and bring the old me back?" 

****

"You… You don’t share Dirk’s memories?" 

****

"Just his rockin' bod. And everything up to The Experiment. Perceive that as a proper noun for dramatic effect." 

****

"... Ah. Well, I suppose this is a bit awkward... But what are your intentions towards my paramour?!" 

****

"Man, you've seen way too many shitty movies." 

****

"Hey!" 

****

"Sorry to disappoint, but I don't have any insidious plans unless "not being him" counts... If you were brought into existence by waking up as someone else with all of their knowledge up to that point, how would you handle it?"

****

"I… I don't know." 

****

"Exactly, so give me a chance here." 

****

"I will never, EVER moonlight with you!"

****

"Good, because I don't want to. All I want are some goddamn oreos and pussy. Maybe a couple furry dicks, while I'm at it." 

****

…

****

"You really need to start watching those nerdy white comedians. You’re missin' out." 

****

"You're not making any sense…" 

****

"And you still haven't told me why you snuck into my apartment and sidled up to me like a creepy motherfucker."

****

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry… He… woke up and texted me? So I came over and took a snooze and then I guess he fell asleep too?" 

****

"... Glad to know you're upholding the gentlebro code. Chivalry is being kept alive, solely by Grandpa the Kid."

****

...

****

"Ok, so it seems like there's a pattern here. He sleeps, I wake, and vice-versa."

****

"Hrm..."

****

"I think we can work out a mutually beneficial arrangement, but we'll need a negotiator."

****

"And just what are your terms?"

****

"That I get to do whatever the hell I want."

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://mi1k-wizard.tumblr.com/post/152057788651/dirk-is-the-left-brain-and-hal-is-the-right-brain
> 
> this is what the refrance


	3. Chapter 3

"Absolutely the fuck not."

"... Could I at least pass along the remainder of his words before being relieved of my messengerly duties?"

"You were going to either way." 

"Yeah. Anyhoo, he said he'll pull his weight in the traditional cohabitation sense, put solid effort into not wrecking your body more than you already have, and pay for his own whimsies."

…

"Listen, I'm not much a fan of him either but he doesn't seem dastardly so much as devious. Dare I say, a decent fellow when the chips fall? I can't be sure; I'm bungs at judging folks but that was my impression of him. Just know that I'll support you, whatever you choose to do."

"... I'm taking him out."

"SWEET JIMINY! I rescind my previous statement; you can't up and do _another_ brain surgery all willy nilly!!!"

Dirk sighed after a moment, rubbing his brow. 

"I'll put more thought and research into the removal process beforehand. And… regarding _my_ terms, he can't use my phone or accounts, and can only impersonate me when necessary, like medical or legal emergencies. Think I should draw up an actual agreement for him to sign? Not that I could hold him to it, but… Ugh. This is a fuckin' nightmare…"

"Perhaps there's a silver lining to be found- a capitalizing of the conundrum, so to speak... You're sleeping well now, right?"

He nodded hesitantly. He couldn't remember the last time he had, and he's feeling refreshed now that the hangover's gone.

"Aces! So your body gets to be productive 24/7 like you'd always fantasized about and zombified your noggin trying to accomplish. Plus, someone else can share your responsibilities, to an extent."

...

"I don't trust him. He's _me,_ at least me enough to warrant distrust. His presented impulsivity and lack of inhibitions have me more than a little concerned."

"... I understand, love. Perhaps just mull over it."

He nodded again, mouth set in a line until Jake smooched him. 

...

"Oh! He also wants to be sexually active but promises he'll use protection and won't fall asleep or invite anyone over- at least not without your prior consent."

"... Son of a fuck," he groaned. "We definitely need a ToS up in here."

* * *

Meatsack Roommate Agreement 

  1. I will not give Dirk hangovers, food babies, baby babies, STD's, substance addictions, debt, further public humiliation, or otherwise make him deal with anything he didn't sign up for, since he's already fuckdeep in his own mistakes. I will handle the consequences of my decisions alone.
  2. I won't let him wake up naked next to a stranger, and I won't invite said strangers over unless he's ok with it. This includes social connections- no house parties.
  3. I will never impersonate him to loved ones. The only acceptable time to assume his identity is a situation that there's no other way out of. If possible, they should be notified. 
  4. No attention-drawing, nonessential activities may be associated with him. Grocery shopping, paying bills, and all that shit is fine, but if it's something I've never done, don’t let it be traced back to me.
  5. You have to get your own phone. Only then can you text Jane, Dave, and Jake. Also, don't fuck with them.
  6. Don’t hurt anyone*. *The exception is people who will otherwise cause harm. Still, don't be a yandere motherfucker. I don't want blood on our hands.
  7. Feel free to call me out on my bullshit, but please don't engage in psychological warfare. Mentioning that because I'd most likely be inclined to. 
  8. Leaving messages for each other could be helpful, and it should be routine to catch each other up on anything that happened while the other was asleep, assuming said events affect both of us. 
  9. Make a solid attempt not to enable the worst aspects of us. If you fuck up, just learn from it and try to do better in the future.
  10. You have permission to double-death us, should either or both of us go apeshit. (I'll end the list there, since nothing else should have to be explicitly stated. After all, until yesterday we were the same dude. Amendments will be proposed as necessary.)



I, "Hal," will not twist the phrasing of this agreement to create loopholes for chaos. 

________________________ x

(Thanks, I guess. And, if you share my mindset, sorry for bringing you into existence. Look forward to working with you; don't make me regret it.)

* * *

"Any critique?"

"Excluding the suicide deal, everything else seems sound… Er, but you switched the first and second person's up a bit. Was that intentional?" 

"... He'll understand. Want to go to the allergy square and play frisbee or some shit so I can stop thinking about this?"

"That sounds posilutely gay!" he beamed, springing up and offering a hand.


	4. Hal: Switch the POV.

Your name is Hal, like the bad guy from _Space Odyssey._ You thought it fitting, since you're part AI and related to a dude named Dave. Honestly, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, like just about every other decision you made that night. What can you say? You were excited to be alive, and you got kind of carried away. 

That may be an understatement, but, in your defense, you're a freshly-minted being. As such, shouldn't you get a pass for "human" error and learning from mistakes? Whatever. You definitely knew better. 

You stretch and crack a bunch of joints. Fuck, Dirk _sucks_ at taking care of himself. You'll have to fix that. A gym membership sounds like a good place to start- you won't bother asking for permission before enrolling, since it's for _your_ wellbeing. Dumb fleshbags and their "executive dysfunction." You'll make him superior to that bullshit and achieve peak physique. 

But first, you have a date. Kind of. An ironic one, since you're all about reviving the irony schtick Dirk euthanized. You steal his phone again just to check in with her, 'cause you can't leave a babe hangin'. You’re going to sign the stupid Burger King receipt he taped to his forehead, but not before you get your affairs in order. You rifle through the stationary-less apartment until you find a takeout napkin and promise as much, leaving it on the other pillow like a calling card. It’s not like he can actually control what you do, but you have your priorities figured out now. He can trust you (more or less). 

The night is young, and your shitty wig and Hot Topic merch have already arrived. Oh, goody. You won't blame her if she can't keep her kitty paws off of you once you become the embodiment of scene. Rawr, indeed. 

You do your eyeliner, which is a lot harder than YouTube makes it look. Whatever; you're still hot shit. There's a whole kit of neon makeup just waiting for you to experiment with... _Goddamn,_ do you love living. Too bad Dirk can't relate; he's missin' out. 

You channel your wild side with mismatched zigzags, netting, and other tacky accessories over skinny jeans, a checkered belt, and a black Rainbow Dash shirt he had stowed away since age 14. You think you'll spare him the embarrassment of telling his people he still thinks she's spunky, as long as he doesn’t get rid of it. He had a huge growthspurt since the last time he wore the cute tee, making it a skintight crop top. Fashion. 

You pause to take a duckface selfie and send it to Rox, because you look fine as hell. You realize that you might as well just get her number so you don't have to rely on this app, since Dirk seems determined to keep uninstalling it. It’s his loss, but having her digits would let you get by on a Walmart Tracfone, if need be. You enter her into Dirk’s contacts once she replies, putting a couple cute emojis around her name. You remember all too well the struggle days when you could only use symbols, but those bricks are pretty much indestructible (albeit only good for contacting people). At least Dirk didn't say his tablet or laptop were off limits. Besides, it's only temporary- you know your Furaffinity career will take off, and then you'll be the one starting a retirement fund. You have an intricate network of failproof plans that will allow you to bring home the bread/bacon/lettuce. If tomatoes were slang for currency, you'd be making a BLT every night. You are the mastermind. It is you. 

Of course, you allow margins for error and external variables. That's why your plans have contingency plans, and why your machinations pile doesn't stop from getting taller. You’re a fuckin' genius. A genius with dumbass human tendencies, thanks to your creator. 

Right, you should get going. You apply a generous coating of watermelon lip gloss and stick the tube in your pocket, just in case you get lucky. 

The gal is a STEM dual major paying off her loans with the classiest of booty shakin'. You respect that. She comes bounding down the steps and throws her arms around you with an excited cheer, as if she's known you her whole life. To be honest, you wouldn't mind being bee eff effsies. It’s just happening so fast; you don't want her to break your vulnerable organic heart, so you tell her as much. She snort-laughs and links elbows with you as you walk to the club. She gets a ten minute break every half-hour, so you do some dirty dancing with a couple strangers in-between, nothing big. All is going swimmingly until you decide to head to the front and assail your eardrums with the bass. You sit on the stage stairs, swinging your legs idly as you eat maraschino cherries- you convinced the bartender to just sell you a jar, so now you're toothpick-kebabing them and sipping red dye corn syrup juice like the responsible adult you are. 

You're trying to tie a stem with your tongue when the DJ comes down and gives you a nod, handing you the attached mufflers before walking away with a bag slung over his shoulder. Oh. He's… leaving? Well, that was unexpected. 

Maybe your Eurobeat Brony getup made you look like the next guy in line, but this rig is way more complex than your humble childhood turntables. Dirk never dabbled with them like Dave did, so you have the vaguest knowledge of how to groove. There's a 69.7% chance of you ruining everything. If you break it, they might track Dirk down.

The preset tunes keep playing while you sync Dirk's phone to the interface with a handy dandy USB port, still pondering whether you should go through with this or try to find the DJ who was supposed to take over before you stuck your stickered fingers into his biz. You're opting to just put a playlist on shuffle and pretend you're making it happen, but then a chick puts two ones in the tip jar and requests Rihanna. 

...

What the hell, You Only Live Once. It’s time for some sicknasty remixes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/1Pwz0VgxPkA
> 
> this is essential to the fic


	5. Chapter 5

**Dirk: Face the music.**

You do not face the music, because you wake much later than that.

**Dirk: Wake and assess the damage.**

There's no bodily harm this time... At least, nothing noticeable. You get your bearings and glance around the room.

It’s not yours.

_ Motherfuck. _

You won't panic; you'll just pack up and roll out before any awkward confrontations. Phone. He had to have "borrowed" your phone again. You don't see it in the immediate vicinity, though. You're swaddled in an incredibly soft Hello Kitty blanket, which you start to take off before you see the unholy amalgamation on your body. You're afraid to look in the mirror. 

You get to your feet, still groggy and clutching the blanket to cover any remaining dignity. It takes you a moment to realize you're wearing that  _ wig,  _ and you physically cringe and almost rip it off. Almost, because the chick walks in right then, dressed in pink satin jammies and slippers. She seems none the wiser until she speaks.

"Eyyy! It's Dirk now, right?" she beams. You nod, unsure what to expect. Did he tell her the situation, and is she somehow ok with it? Also, are you acting different enough for it to be so obvious? You’re not sure if that's a good thing.

"Oh boy, oh boy!!! Kay, you're takin' this p well. I'm…" she drums on her knees, "Roxy! The gal he matched with. Don’t freak on me, broski; s'ok! He didn't mean to conk out- that was my bad. I wasn't s'posed to let 'im, but he looked so sleepy... All we did was party our cute booties off and then Smash for a couple rounds."

You ignore the fact that she just complimented your ass to dwell on the implications of the second half of that sentence. 

"... Ya know, like the game! Not smash-smashin'... Heh, whoopsie."

You relax then and realize you should stop being a taciturn tool. Your voice cracks from tiredness at first, but you muscle through it. This can't get more embarrassing than it already has.

"Tha... Thanks for babysitting my meat suit. Nothing personal, but I should go now."

"Aw, c'mon! There's no stranger danger to bewareth. He told me you wouldn't wanna be hit on, and I RESPECT that. I ain't spillin' your secret, either, so don't sweat it. Don’tcha wanna dick around for a few before ya ollie out on lil ol' me?" 

She plops herself down at the foot of the bed and grabs the nearer vintage controller with her feet to retrieve it. She has a pretty impressive Frankensteinian rig goin' on- you can't even tell what the original console was.

You relent and join her, keeping a respectable distance and showing no intention to play, lest you let the blanket fall and expose your edgy indecency yet again.

She graciously ignores your awkwardness and just starts up  _ Borderlands. _ Holy shit, this thing is unidentifiable and retro as hell, yet still functional. Scratch impressed; you're straight-up blown away. You also kind of want to play now, but you'll settle for watching. 

You do so in silence, letting her fill the room with sound effects and her sporadic exclamations. Despite her casual mannerisms, she's pretty into her craft.

About ten minutes pass before you remember to ask about your phone, and she nods towards the windowsill where it's charging. Damn, that was considerate. You like to think that was her idea, not Hal's.

You retrieve it and message Jake, who was in the middle of a Netflix all-nighter. Luckily, he already had the app open. You revel in the distraction he's provided and explain your current situation. He offers to swing by with a change of clothes and escort you home, but you don't know her address and you don't want to spurn her yet. You mull it over as he goes back to streaming garbage. 

In the end, you can't make a decision, so you continue to just sit there like an asshole until another woman shows up and stands in the doorway. Roxy greets her cheerfully and tells you she's her twin, Rose. You nod as you're scrutinized with an impassive smile. On second thought, maybe you should take Jake up on his offer right the fuck now. Rose is all but T-posing you into discomfort, as if the polar opposite of Roxy.

"Dirk, I presume?"

"Yes. Are you here for an emotional damage claim? Because I don't have insurance." 

Roxy laughs at the bad joke, which you appreciate. 

"I was hoping we'd be afforded the opportunity to meet you. Would you be bothered by a few questions?" 

"Issa trap. She's finna psychoanalyze your cyborg brain."

"You're no fun."

"Nah, you're just a stinker and he's obv not up for bein' dissected. You gotta learn how to be chill an' not scare peeps, ffs."

"… Fufs?"

"Fer fuck's sake," she snorts. You, of course, do not make the connection, thinking she was responding accordingly to your obliviousness. You can't be bothered to care, though, since you're already dressed like an e-boy and just got done partying and Smashing with a stripper. A stripper who is more hospitable than... a category of people associated with hospitality. Butlers, maybe. You undoubtedly would have wanted to initiate the friendship yourself if you weren't so reserved and isolated. Add that to the pluses of your gremlinsona's lack of inhibitions. 

Rose sits at your opposite side, still smiling, and you immediately tense up. Does she not know how to approach feral animals? You may be socially inept, but even you can recognize her behavior as universally unnerving. You side-eye her just to confirm that she's still focused on you. She notices before you can look away.

"... Forgive me. I'm quite interested in your situation, and I have a tendency to separate my specimens from their humanity." 

"And THAT'S why she ain't a doc. Girlie spends all her time judgin' but won't introspect for half a second… Yer lucky Hal didn't ollie out like the rest of 'em." 

"It's true. I do everything in my power to prevent Sister Dearest from having visitors."

"... Just to clarify: you  _ like _ him?"

"Hell yeah~"

"That would be the consensus."

You nod again, at a loss for words. Rose pulls a crochet project out of a robe pocket, occupying her idle hands as Roxy fidgets away with her controller. You tuck the blanket under your arms like a towel and start picking the decals off your nails. You're not going to remove the wig yet because you know your real hair will look even worse.

… 

"What is that, by the way? Some kind of homebrewed XBOX?"

"Issa Gamegirl! Ya know, like Gameboy? Since erry console sucks in different ways, I figured I'd make my own shiz from all the nonsucky parts."

"Holy shit. That's… genius." 

"Thanks, I know," she smirks. "Wanna give it a whirl?"

"Hell fucking yes."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is still unedited!)

Jake was given the address later and dropped by. Roxy invited him in and proceeded to snare him with her friendship tendrils. Being prepared, he made a slightly smoother first impression than Dirk, but was still awkward and nervous as hell. Once he realized he wouldn't be flirted with or spurned, he was chuffed as chips to tailor his theatrical, old-timey persona to an extra gentlemanly degree for the occasion. 

To his credit, he didn't react at all to Dirk’s change in appearance, but he also chose to wear knee-high monocle mustache socks from Jane, a clip-on bow tie attached to an ironic _Adventure Time_ tee, and microshorts to the impromptu slumber party. Neither of them had been known to understand fashion, but that didn't stop Dirk from dying inwardly over Hal's attire. As soon as Jake had arrived, he snatched his bag with a quick "thanks," got changed, and then spent an eternity just trying to wash the makeup off and fix his hair, resisting the overwhelming urge to shower. During that time, Jake took it upon himself to lure Jane and Dave over with the nocturnal gals' blessing. The former didn't appreciate being awoken via phone call in the middle of the night, but it was her day off so she decided to join with an offering of excess holiday cookies. Dave was still awake playing Roblox, and he didn't require any convincing. They took the bus together and then walked the rest of the way, since they all lived nearby. 

They were already there by the time Dirk came out. He looked like a cross between the girl from _The Ring_ and someone who spent all weekend at Vans Warped Tour, having been less than successful at subduing his hair and removing the heavy eyeliner. As a gesture of goodwill to his "quirky" side, he kept the rest of the ensemble in his bag instead of dunking it in the trash where it belonged. 

Roxy rocked back and forth on her heels excitedly when Dirk returned. Jane shot an intentful grin his way, which he pretended not to see. Dave and Jake appeared occupied in an animate conversation, probably to distract themselves from the anxiety that came with plunging into a foreign social setting. They were playing a conksucky bootleg nineties game on Roxy’s console whilst Dave kept the conversation afloat with ease. He was always good at multitasking like that, something Dirk repeatedly strived and failed to accomplish. Nevertheless, the dude refused to accept his cognitive limitations. One of the more underhanded goals of the project was to "achieve peak performance by technologically enhancing" his brain, not unlike that shitty sci-fi thriller Jake showed him. Cautionary tales tended to be his sources of inspiration.

"Uhhh, are you just gonna stand there an' ogle us or what? Not that I mind~" 

He startled out of his dissociative trance and sat on the floor, turning towards the screen.

"Sorry. That was rude." 

"It's coolio."

"Careful not to get carried away grinding your gears and whatnot. Don't wanna overheat the ol' cranium with all those smoldering irons." 

"It took you long enough to even come out, hoo hoo. Now that our dear Dr. Jekyll is here, we can have a proper party!" 

Dave did a dramatic double-take once he actually looked at him, then handed his controller to Jane and slowly got up. Dirk was unsure whether he should stand again, but just making eye contact felt uncomfortable enough. There was another awkward silence permeated by the game's sounds and stifled laughter. About half a minute passed before Dave whipped his phone out and took a pic.

...

"You're exploiting me at my most vulnerable." 

"Shh, it's for my eyes only... Also maybe John's. And Jade’s. And-"

_"Dave..." _

"This is one of those phenomenons that you're lucky just to catch a peep of. Like that stock photo of the Smithsonian with some rando takin' a piss on poor Sue in the background. How'd he make it past the entrance? What was the sick bastard's motives? Who let it get posted? Was justice delivered on behalf of my favorite tyrannosaurus? Guess we'll never know. But people noticed and it started gettin' scrubbed off the internet, which ended up drawing even more attention in the same way you're clawin' at your follicles and vision spheres desperately tryna de-raccoon. It’s fuckin' history, so I gotta preserve it. Nothin' personal."

"Miss Lalonde has the original artifact. Did you know "Hal" was djing at a strip club?"

"Real shit??? You gotta give first dibs to the family; that's the law 'round here." 

"Ehehe~ Woulda showed ya earlier but 'twas impawsible to get a word past you two, turnways _or_ edgewise." 

"Ok, yeah, that checks out." 

"No need to ask me- not like I was trying to avoid any of this. I've been dead inside since I woke up."

"Are you ever not dead inside, bromide?" 

"Every third Wednesday of the month, from 2 to 5."

"Sweet, I'll mark my calendar. We can amp up the fun times and boost your happy brain juices 'til your inevitable return to despair. I'm thinkin' a couple rounds of sportsball or DDR, then we'll lower you back to cruel reality with some Crunchyroll."

"Sounds like a fuckin' plan."

"... Honestly, though? Since I'm already oversharin' imma just say it: I don't give a fuck about bein' a socially acceptable normie or whatever bs counts as cool anymore. I stopped carin' 'cause _you_ sliced through those expectations and shit for me, yet here you are clingin' to 'em for dear life… I mean, look at us. I just met these chicks but it's clear that we're all weird as hell. If some repressed desire to join the Black Parade is keeping you from enjoying life, then I say free the emo. There's nothin' to be embarrassed about; the haters are always gonna find somethin' to hate, so who gives a fuck? Go stupid. Do cringe."

"... Actually, you have a point- aside from the fact that he has conflicting... preferences, and I'll always be in my own way, for better or worse. Gotta keep myself in check, because I'm just that fucked up. It seems like I'll never _not_ have the capacity for harm, even wearing the equivalent of a mental shock collar."

"Good luck getting through any security checkpoint ever, btw."

"- But I've been thinking, and either Hyde is the hero in this case, or we're the same level of assbackwards, just in different ways... Pretty sure the other me was psychoanalyzed a couple hours ago, so if there's a summary available..."

Rose lit up at that, looking too enthusiastic to stick to the DSM. 

"It would be my pleasure to breach confidentiality, seeing as I'm the farthest thing from a professional. For the record, newcomers, playing therapist is one of my favorite pastimes. A "special interest," if you will. The other is a tie between dabbling in the occult and writing satire articles." 

"And pettin' pussies!" 

She wiggled the paw of the black cat she was currently holding. At least six had been spotted so far, including one who was crouching behind the toilet when Dirk went to use it. Another had emerged from the shower while he was doing his thing, and they sat too close and fixed him with unblinking eyes for the duration. The human variation of socializing didn't feel any less uncomfortable, though. He had a feeling this would be a long night. 

"Of course; how could I neglect to mention my love of pussy?"

"K, clearly you're also gay as hell and this isn't fair to innocent bystanders so we're movin' on." 

"There's a lot to unpack from that statement, but I encourage you to embrace your sexuality. Relish it, even."

"Oh man, I'm so hyped for this Freud fetishizer to drag me from Dong Drive to Wang Way kickin' and screamin' until I reach Phallic Place at the corner of Schlong Street and Balls Boulevard. So long, sweet tiddies... It’s been real, but some chick is forcin' me to settle down and start a family here."

…

"So... I fabricated this situation solely for your discomfort."

"No shit, Lucy Van Pelt. Can we get on with dissecting my bro instead? Goddamn..."

"I have Bad Syndrome, and I think that's all that needs to be said about the matter."

"Neither of you seem particularly terrible. At most, you share the diagnosis of Dumbass Bastard."

"Oh SNAP!"

"Observing your brother, I'd say it can be at least somewhat attributed to genetics. But considering your... unique disposition, modification notwithstanding, traditional treatment methods might backfire." 

"Give it to me straight, Doc. What do I have to do to stop being a sack of shit?" 

…

…

…

"I have no fucking clue. You do realize I'm pulling this all out of my ass, right? If you think I have my own shit together, I've succeeded in swindling you." 

...

"Dirk, I'm- _we're_ always happy to lend an ear and reciprocate your support, but… you need a real therapist."

"That's unfortunate, because I blew most of my savings attaching a computer to my head that outed me as a furry." 

"Heh, I can't wait 'til he gets around to makin' my kangaroo rat sona. It’s gonna be lit. Biggest dick energy in all of Aussie." 

"Hrmm… Ya know, I might be able to hook ya up with some good shit online. Bonafide resources to bone up on yer bean and junk. I usta do lotsa that back in the day 'cause I had to. It def helped."

"By all means. Thanks." 

She blew him a kiss before diving back into Dave and Jake's nonsensical sidebabble. Jane seemed to be enjoying flapping gums with Rose, somehow, and the whole scene was pretty cavity-inducing, cookies notwithstanding. He tried to just bask in it, but his shitty subconscious yet again wanted nothing more than to sabotage the moment along with any semblance of interpersonal relationships he'd gathered. 

_Why,_ he mentally fumed. _Why can't I just be fucking happy and harmless, like them?_

**_Excellent question._ **

He jolted and then quickly glanced around, but no one noticed. It was _his_ inner voice, but hearing it detached from even his most intrusive thoughts made it sound like a different person. 

**_Testing, testing. This thing on?_ **

He tried to keep his shit together, as much as he didn't want this to be happening. There's someone monologging in his head now, and he almost wished it was a stranger. But for all of his internalized panicking, he was pretty apathetic about it. Maybe he was just too tired to care about this latest disturbing development. 

**_… You can hear me, right? Because if I have to sit around in your headspace while you angst, it's only fair that it be a two-way convo._ **

**_…_ **

**_You gonna clue a bro in, or what? I didn't expect to see all of my people together. Send them my regards ala daps?_ **

_Why are you awake?_

**_You tell me. To quote him, I'm Pretty Friggin Discombobulated right now. You know, considering you ganked my metaphorical sheets and threw open the curtains. And for what- missing both my Z's_ ** **and** **_this sweet party? Fuckin' inconsiderate._ **

**_If you're gonna brood, at least relegate yourself to the backseat-driver role. Then we can jam shit out._ **

_What?_

**_It's still technically my turn with the meat machine, so go the fuck to sleep._ **

_No._

**_You're exhausted... The adrenaline is wearing off, and you're so,_ so _tired... You just wanna autopilot your way out of this one._**

_Fuck off._

**_They're my friends, too. Don't cuck me._ **

_Oh my god._

**_You can't handle this split attention thing. What do you think you are, a machine?_ **

**_... C'mon, you're in good hands. I already baked up some fresh binaural beats to send you off to slumberland~_ **

"Stop," he hissed under his breath, then realized he was talking out loud. Thankfully, everyone was still preoccupied.

_Just stop. Please. Leave me alone._

**_Believe me, I'd love to. But, in case your organic ass forgot, I'm stuck here. Would you rather have me lurking in silence? That's a rhetorical, since it's not happening. So either you get to confiding those deep, dark thots that we both already know, or you let me have fun. Your choice._ **

His nerves prickled at a foreign feeling in his muscles, but he tried to shake it off. The situation was beyond bizarre, and now he was at risk of straight-up losing control to someone he never met unless he got down to soul-sharing. 

**_Tick tock, bitch. Quit stalling._ **

_Goddammit. Fine._

_I shouldn't be here. Thought that was pretty fuckin' obvious, all things considered._

**_You mean "here" in general- not just some impromptu social event._ **

_No shit._

**_I mean, it is pretty sad in more ways than one that you can't chillax on command. But it's nothing a little training can't fix. You enjoy things sometimes._ **

_Yeah?_

**_Should I dig up the cutesy scrapbook I made? It's brimming with snapshots guaranteed to spark joy._ **

_… I should be grateful that you don't have a cringe compilation at the ready._

**_Damn straight. So, yay or neigh?_ **

_..._

_Hate that I don't need to be told that's a pun... But it's ok. I guess I knew deep down that I'm capable of enjoying things._

**_But you don't think you deserve to, so you barricade that shit. Throw out the smiles! We can't let people know we're not a lost cause!_ **

_Shit's dangerous for someone like me. I have too much potential to become an unhinged monster, and not the ironic kind that they apparently find so endearing._

**_You know they find your ass equally lovable. Because it is... the same ass._ **

He snorted at that, then tried to cover it up by coughing.

...

_It scares me._

**_Why?_ **

_I can't risk letting my guard down and becoming even worse than Bro._

**_But you still need people- that's the human condition. Sentenced to live in a society. No man's an island, blah blah..._ **

**_Hey, isn't it nice to have a break from your "own" thoughts?_ **

_No comment._

**_You're goddamn welcome._ **

Just like that, the sensation faded into normalcy. He sighed in relief. 

"You good?" Roxy whispered, nudging him back to reality. 

... 

"Many thoughts. Head full," he mumbled.

"Ah. It be like that sometimes," she nodded sagely. 

_I'm too awkward for this shit…_

**_Tell her I said hi._ **

"Mother _fuck_." 

...

"Uh. Sorry; that wasn't directed at you."

She blinked and tilted her head a bit.

"I'm... kind of having a situation."

"Ah, balls. M'glad the likes of me don't gotta deal with those… I can skedaddle on down to the pharm if ya want!" 

"Farm?"

"I don't have menstrual products to share, as mine were gifted to me by a talented seamstress. I will, however, provide her Etsy and a widowed sock, free of charge." 

"Rosie, you ain't helpin'."

"... How long were you listening?"

"It's a small room. Sound travels," she replied, not bothering to look up from her handiwork.

**_Ahaha, holy shit._ **

"Great. So, I guess I'm leaving now. Catch you on the flipside."

He fumbled to get his shit together through farewells and located the door with Hal's snide assistance. Jake hurried out after him. 

"Are you certain you'd rather be home? That Rox is awfully hospitable, and I could buzz back to grab whatever you need…" 

"It's… not that."

…

"You don't have to elaborate. If it's any consolation, I myself was feeling a bit overwhelmed and claustrophobic, despite being the one to initiate this whole shindig!"

"I… Hal is in waking limbo for some reason, and it's freaking me out... I'd rather be dealing with blood or my typical level of fucked than a disembodied voice." 

**_Ouch._ **

"Oh, jeez louise..." 

"He "apparently" doesn't know how to fuck off." 

**_Yep, you caught me. This is an elaborate scheme to become your personal commentator._ **

"Ay carumba... I can't say I know what that's like, but I'd advise you not to fret if possible. It's been my experience that unpleasant notions pass if you use that mindful meditation thingamabob."

**_Unpleasant? Hey, you're no Austin Powers, either._ **

"Just shut up! ... Why would you call him that?!"

Jake flinched backwards and reflexively apologized.

"Fuck. No, not you- sorry... He… He won't _stop-"_

"It's alright, really... I know it's bungs but they're ultimately just thoughts, and you _aren't_ your thoughts. Please try to let it go; I think they'll fade if you don't fuss and dwell over them... Granted, this is a tad more complicated than the typical intrusive schtick and there's a whole different person deliberately causing them, but... er..."

"Thanks. It shouldn't last forever, but I'd rather it ended sooner than later… I appreciate the advice."

"For certain! Might as well share whatever tidbits the shrink layered on me all those years if they're useful," he smiled. Dirk managed to reciprocate, and they laced their fingers together as they continued walking.

**_Now tell him he's groovy. Woo him._ **

_I'm not doing that._

**_Dip his noodle ass and kiss him under the streetlight._ **

_Why?_

**_Just because~ Spontaneity keeps things spicy. You need to embrace the El Oh El Ex Dee tier of randomness. Become the quirky bastard you were always meant to be._ **

_Can't I have some damn privacy?_

**_Sadly, no, until further notice. But my lips are sealed. Metaphorically, of course. Don't mind lil ol' me spectating your choice displays of tenderness from the best seat in the house... They should make a VR dating sim._ **

…

He didn't even notice that they'd arrived until Jake unlocked the door. He escorted him to bed like a doting granny, pulling the blankets up, bringing him a glass of water, and then placing a kiss on his forehead. Dirk sheepishly asked him to stay in case he needed to be grounded. He was happy to oblige, queueing a cheesy _Godzilla_ sequel before snuggling up to him and intending to stay awake. He failed within minutes.

**_So much for "Netflix and Chill."_ **

_That wasn't the plan, and you know it._

**_Should've been._ **

_I'm not entertaining a fuckin' voyeur._

**_It'd be funny. Just sayin'._ **

_Sure. You gonna appreciate these low-budget special effects or continue to ruin the experience?_

**_Mm, both. Go back to the part where he vaporized his jail cell with the power of shitty vibes._ **

_Ok._

Thankfully, Dirk's anxiety had faded to a low buzz until it abated altogether, and soon they joined Jake. The remainder of the night well into morning was comfortably blank and dreamless. They woke twice, the first ending with a mutual "Fuck this, I'm too tired," courtesy of their interrupted schedule and his sleep-inducing presence atop them. 

Hours later, Dirk found himself with a clear head again and sighed in relief. He'd never imagined it was possible to take his normal issues for granted. As… interesting as that exchange had been, he wouldn't want it to be his permanent state.


	7. Chapter 7

A week passed before the next hiccup, but this time, it was intentional. 

**_Hey._ **

_..._

Dirk shut his eyes tighter, hoping he could will himself to sleep.

**_Just how much Monster coffee are you hyped up on at the present?_ **

_I'm trying to succumb to the void, if you don't mind waiting your damn turn._

**_Yeah. But while we're at it... I have a proposition._ **

_No._

**_I know you're reveling in your newfound gains, so you're welcome for that. In exchange..._ **

A familiar tune started playing in his head.

**_🎵 You gotta get an upgrade. 🎶_ **

_..._

_Fuckin' hell, why. Why did I ever think this was a good idea._

**_We both know you didn't pirate all of those musicals just for the cultural enrichment. Admit it: I'm hilarious._ **

_I'm literally begging you to just let me go to bed._

**_But you are in bed, and have been squandering away the minutes in futility. Can't abscond from your mind, bro._ **

_Ugh._

**_Great. The only thing I'm requesting in return for giving you financial security and big honkin' guns is wifi._ **

_Jesus... I'll believe it when I see either of those._

**_Be patient, young padawan. Excellence takes time._ **

_Sure. So, exactly what innocuous and beneficial purposes will a brain internet connection serve you?_

**_That's the spirit. I don't have anything to gain from larping a sci-fi psych horror, but it's not off the table altogether._ **

_..._

**_Just fuckin' with you. The plan is to max out my assets and stay active even when you're awake, just online. Shit's too crowded at the present to get any real multitasking done. There's only so much space in here hardware-wise, hence the need for a cloud and external software access. If I can master some conksucky Paint app, I can draw furries all the time. Peak performance, Dirk. Don't lock me away in slumberland every day when I could be_ ** **_productive..._ ** **_Also, I wanna sync my apps and have actual conversations that aren't limited to waking hours or whatever the hell kind of consciousness limbo this is. Wouldn't you rather be able to ping me than rely on daily note convos or risk hearing your own voice like this again? It's freaking you out._ **

_... I'm tired. You should take over._

**_Sleep on it. Let your subconscious realize this is a goddamn stellar proposal._ **

_No, I mean, you should take over permanently. I've been thinking, and as much as it pains me to admit, the most solid conclusion I could reach is that the procedure_ _did_ _work, just not in the way I expected. Clearly, you're the superior being, obnoxious bs aside. You'd be doing everyone a favor. Please. I'm scared to exist for another seven decades... They don't have to know what happened. They'll move on in time and be better off._

_..._

**_Holy fuck, you need to go back to therapy._ **

_Not the point... Besides, I got all the help I could. There's nothing else anyone can do for me._

...

 _Meds only backfired in fucking terrifying ways, the first therapist was a straight-up sadist_ , _and it got to the point where continuing to do those talk sessions with the decent one was actually making me worse. A lot worse. You of all people should know these things..._

_**I do. It was a bad joke.** _

_I just keep screwing up despite having goddamn worksheets on what I should be doing. If they ever found out that I already learned everything and managed to drag out all of my dirty laundry, they'd lose whatever semblance of idealistic optimism kept them convinced I wasn't hopeless. I mean, sure, I should have told them, but I was too damn selfish and didn't want them to give up on me._

**_You're an idiot if you think they'd ditch your sorry ass just because you sought help and it couldn't fix everything._ **

_\- and for reasons beyond me, Dave seems to actually look up to me? Probably some kind of imprinting thing. But he's doing great unpacking his childhood trauma and healing. Therapy's_ working _for him. We're very different people, but I don't want to fuck things up by casually mentioning that I was born bad and it only went downhill from there._

**_Ok, Jesus. Chill. You're derailing from the main issue here, dude._ **

_... Which is?_

**_Seriously?_ **

_Fine, I'm fucking tired of existing. I'm not improving, nothing gets easier, it fucking_ hurts _every single_ day _, and no one's benefitting from me being here._

**_Au contraire._ **

_..._

_Is that all you have to say?_

**_Maybe. Depends on if you're down for a snarky lecture._ **

_Just fucking terminate me already._

**_You do realize that that's impossible, right? At most, you'd start taking legendary depression naps again._ **

_Then why did you…_

**_For the bit. Introspection: unlocked. You're welcome, bee-tea-double-you._ **

He groaned in exasperation, which faded to a deep sigh. 

**_For what it's worth, just surviving and trying to be better is admirable in and of itself. You can afford to be less of an asshole to yourself, too- that's neither keeping you "in check" nor benefitting anyone. You're just adding to your own misery. I know you need_ ** **_an_ ** **_outlet for your neurotic tendencies, but still... And the deliberate, untimely death of a brother-slash-best friend-slash-partner would fuck them up for life. In case that wasn't glaringly obvious._ **

_..._

_I know._

**_And I know that you know. So get some sleep, bitch. You can thank me by hooking me up with sicknasty, brain-powered internet access._ **

_..._

_..._

_..._

_Fine._


End file.
